Post by Angel Vance on Apr 8, 2015 18:27:42 GMT -5
"Here take this... When you feel the need to let loose let me know... After you've done some soul searching. You seem like you need it and I can't help you with that."
The girl held out her hand with a number scrawled on it, he had half a mind to just walk away without accepting it but something stopped him and he reached out and took it without a word, putting it away in his pocket. Then he walked away as rain started to fall.
This was the last time he saw that girl or even his school. It had been awhile since he had even been in this town. Hell he'd been gone for what? Days? Weeks? Months? He really didn't know nor did he really care it was more of an accident that he found himself back in NY. He had been traveling place getting into and out of trouble left and right making more enemies and less friends the more he traveled. He left this town without anything and came back with less. On the road he often found himself in bad places needing food or shelter so he did what he had to do. He would often resort to stealing food or money to get what he needed but that often lead to him getting caught and ending up in a few fights. After awhile though he thought maybe that was what he should do, if he was going to get beat up anyways, might as well do it for money.
Angel would find street fighters having there nightly fight clubs in whatever town or city he was in and join up. He was given a title, "The Ghost" was what they called him. He'd show up without a word fight a few rounds earn some cash then leave without talking to anyone. Though one could say earning a name for fighting was... lets just say not the best way to be recognized. He fell into some trouble and that... led to where he is now.
He would be lying in some back ass alley way in New York City. He was drunk and ragged looking. His clothes were torn and dirty and every inch of his body was cover in some sort of filth he had blood all over him, all of it dried and most it might not have been his, but he couldn't remember that anymore he couldn't remember much at the moment he was in so much of a haze. His hair was matted and gross and his typically clean shaven face had been taken over by fuzz. His Mp3 player and head phones were gone as were his fake glasses, he didn't even have shoes or socks. He legitimately looked like just another vagabond left on the street to die.
Though his luck hadn't completely ran out as a man walked by the alley and noticed him laying there in the garbage and muck. The man's first thought was to shudder and walk away feeling sorry for the homeless kid but something struck a cord in his heart and he just couldn't leave the boy laying there. So he walked over to Angel.
"Hey... D-do you have any family or someone that I can call?"
Angel looked up at the man not really sure if he was real or just another illusion of his mind, but in the end he decided he didn't care. Angel just shrugged as he reached into his pocket to see if he still had any money to buy more alcohol and he felt a piece of paper touch his hand. Confused he pulled it out and looked at it, it was a number... but who's? Frankly he decided he didn't care about that either and he just handed it to the man-illusion thinking that maybe he would have better luck with it.
The man looked down at the number and assumed it might be a family member or even a friend, anything to help this poor young man. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed the number. If anyone answered he would tell them that he got this number from a young man that was left alone on the side of the street, and he hoped they would send someone out to get him. He told them the name of the street and where to locate him then he would hang up and walk over to Angel.
"Hey I got a hold of your family and I think they are sending someone to get you. So just hang in there bud."
The man, not wanting to be there any longer put the phone number back on Angel's l and walked away. Angel really didn't know what was going on so he just accepted that whatever happened wasn't real and he was just going to sleep off his drunkenness and figure things out tomorrow.
The girl held out her hand with a number scrawled on it, he had half a mind to just walk away without accepting it but something stopped him and he reached out and took it without a word, putting it away in his pocket. Then he walked away as rain started to fall.
This was the last time he saw that girl or even his school. It had been awhile since he had even been in this town. Hell he'd been gone for what? Days? Weeks? Months? He really didn't know nor did he really care it was more of an accident that he found himself back in NY. He had been traveling place getting into and out of trouble left and right making more enemies and less friends the more he traveled. He left this town without anything and came back with less. On the road he often found himself in bad places needing food or shelter so he did what he had to do. He would often resort to stealing food or money to get what he needed but that often lead to him getting caught and ending up in a few fights. After awhile though he thought maybe that was what he should do, if he was going to get beat up anyways, might as well do it for money.
Angel would find street fighters having there nightly fight clubs in whatever town or city he was in and join up. He was given a title, "The Ghost" was what they called him. He'd show up without a word fight a few rounds earn some cash then leave without talking to anyone. Though one could say earning a name for fighting was... lets just say not the best way to be recognized. He fell into some trouble and that... led to where he is now.
He would be lying in some back ass alley way in New York City. He was drunk and ragged looking. His clothes were torn and dirty and every inch of his body was cover in some sort of filth he had blood all over him, all of it dried and most it might not have been his, but he couldn't remember that anymore he couldn't remember much at the moment he was in so much of a haze. His hair was matted and gross and his typically clean shaven face had been taken over by fuzz. His Mp3 player and head phones were gone as were his fake glasses, he didn't even have shoes or socks. He legitimately looked like just another vagabond left on the street to die.
Though his luck hadn't completely ran out as a man walked by the alley and noticed him laying there in the garbage and muck. The man's first thought was to shudder and walk away feeling sorry for the homeless kid but something struck a cord in his heart and he just couldn't leave the boy laying there. So he walked over to Angel.
"Hey... D-do you have any family or someone that I can call?"
Angel looked up at the man not really sure if he was real or just another illusion of his mind, but in the end he decided he didn't care. Angel just shrugged as he reached into his pocket to see if he still had any money to buy more alcohol and he felt a piece of paper touch his hand. Confused he pulled it out and looked at it, it was a number... but who's? Frankly he decided he didn't care about that either and he just handed it to the man-illusion thinking that maybe he would have better luck with it.
The man looked down at the number and assumed it might be a family member or even a friend, anything to help this poor young man. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed the number. If anyone answered he would tell them that he got this number from a young man that was left alone on the side of the street, and he hoped they would send someone out to get him. He told them the name of the street and where to locate him then he would hang up and walk over to Angel.
"Hey I got a hold of your family and I think they are sending someone to get you. So just hang in there bud."
The man, not wanting to be there any longer put the phone number back on Angel's l and walked away. Angel really didn't know what was going on so he just accepted that whatever happened wasn't real and he was just going to sleep off his drunkenness and figure things out tomorrow.
